


Kissing

by Persiflage



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Cunnilingus, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fingerfucking, First Kiss, First Time, Future Fic, Inhumans (Marvel), Inspired By Tumblr, Inspired by Poetry, Kissing, Older Man/Younger Woman, POV Skye | Daisy Johnson, Semi-Public Sex, Skoulson Sex Cabin, Skye | Daisy Johnson's Superpowers, Slow Build, Undercover, mentions of Coulson/Rosalind
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-15
Updated: 2015-12-15
Packaged: 2018-05-06 22:24:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,539
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5432981
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Persiflage/pseuds/Persiflage
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Daisy and Phil start kissing a lot...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Kissing

**Author's Note:**

  * For [zauberer_sirin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/zauberer_sirin/gifts).



> This is my final prompt fill for the unofficial Skoulson Fluff-a-thon from Tumblr. Becketted prompted the following poem, from which I grabbed a few lines for inspiration:
> 
> They are kissing, on a park bench,  
> on the edge of an old bed, in a doorway  
> or on the floor of a church. Kissing  
> as the streets fill with balloons  
> or soldiers, locusts or confetti, water  
> or fire or dust. Kissing down through  
> the centuries under sun or stars, a dead tree,  
> an umbrella, amid derelicts. Kissing  
> as Christ carries his cross, as Gandhi  
> sings his speeches, as a bullet  
> careens through the air toward a child’s  
> good heart. They are kissing,  
> long, deep, spacious kisses, exploring  
> the silence of the tongue, the mute  
> rungs of the upper palate, hungry  
> for the living flesh. They are still  
> kissing when the cars crash and the bombs  
> drop, when the babies are born crying  
> into the white air, when Mozart bends  
> to his bowl of soup and Stalin  
> bends to his garden. They are kissing  
> to begin the world again. Nothing  
> can stop them. They kiss until their lips  
> swell, their thick tongues quickening  
> to the budded touch, licking up  
> the sweet juices. I want to believe  
> they are kissing to save the world,  
> but they’re not. All they know  
> is this press and need, these two-legged  
> beasts, their faces like roses crushed  
> together and opening, they are covering  
> their teeth, they are doing what they have to do  
> to survive the worst, they are sealing  
> the hard words in, they are dying  
> for our sins. In a broken world they are  
> practicing this simple and singular act  
> to perfection. They are holding  
> onto each other. They are kissing.
> 
> — “Kissing” by Dorianne Laux

**[1 – They are kissing, on a park bench]**

They're sitting on a park bench in a cemetery and it's the middle of winter, so the temperature is barely above freezing, and Daisy's wishing her gauntlets were fur-lined because her hands are so cold.

"Phil." She says his name softly.

He stirs beside her, and when he turns to look at her, his eyes are misty. "Daisy," he says, and he sounds so broken, that she can't help reaching for him. To her relief he lets her pull him into her embrace, and she wraps her arms around him, stroking a hand through his hair, and murmuring a quiet stream of reassurance to him.

He shudders, and she feels his tears leaving damp spots on her neck. "It's gonna be okay, Phil, I promise." 

She's not sure how long they sit there, she only knows she's growing very chilly because her field suit is not that warm, when he straightens back up.

"I'm sorry," he says weakly.

"No need," she reassures him, because there isn't, she knows the guilt he's feeling over Rosalind Price – she feels it still over Eric Koenig. And just because she didn't like the woman, doesn't mean Daisy doesn't understand his grief. 

She cups his cheeks in her hands, then thumbs away the remains of his tears, remembering when he'd held her face like this, the first time she'd learned anything significant about her parents. She leans in and presses her lips to his brow, then each of his eyelids in turn, then his nose, both cheeks, and then his lips.

"Daisy," he says her name, and sounds less broken now; he sounds almost as breathless as she suddenly feels, she thinks, and she opens her mouth to drag her tongue across his lower lip.

To her relief, he opens his mouth easily under hers, and kisses her back without any hint of reluctance. They kiss for several minutes, the kisses growing sloppier, dirtier even, until they have to break apart to catch their breath. Daisy shivers and Coulson immediately looks concerned.

"I'm sorry," he says. "We should get back to the SUV."

"Yeah," she agrees. She doesn't ask if they're going to continue with the kissing thing, or if he wants to take things further, but she hopes.

**[2 – on the edge of an old bed]**

The second time they begin kissing, they're sitting on the edge of an old bed in a rustic B&B out in the boonies. It's been a week since the trip to the cemetery, and though they've both wanted to take things further, they haven't had a spare minute to themselves. Now, though, they're stuck here overnight because of a storm that's turned the highway into a river, to all intents and purposes – not the sort of conditions in which either of them wants to attempt to continue in Lola. 

Daisy's doing the thing where she kisses his brow and his nose, and all over his face, basically, and he's loosely holding onto her shoulders, until she brings her mouth to his, and his arms slide around her.

"Daisy." He moans her name into her mouth, and she remembers all the myriad ways he used to say 'Skye', and wonders if she can ask him to call her that again at a time like this.

"Phil," she says instead. She strokes the roof of his mouth with her tongue, then eases her mouth from his to kiss along his jawline. She loves his jaw, especially that little tick thing it does when he's under pressure.

"Lie down, Phil," she says, and he obeys, his eyes soft, and his expression trusting. She nuzzles her nose into the side of his neck as she begins to unbutton his shirt, then follows the path of her fingers with her mouth, placing little biting kisses down his chest. She pulls the edges of the shirt apart, then kisses up the line of his scar, her mouth firm over the ridge of flesh. He groans quietly, and she helps him to sit up so she can get the shirt off him.

He's wearing jeans today, as he usually does during their field missions, but she can still see the bulge of his erection outlined beneath the denim, and she feels her sex growing moist and warm as she eyes it. She reaches out and traces her index around the shape of his cock, and he shudders at her touch, making a rather pained noise.

She sits up, catches his eye, and then pulls her shirt and sweater up and over her head without bothering about buttons or any such nonsense. 

"Daisy." His voice is breathy with want as he sees her bared breasts (she hasn't bothered with a bra today, although she hadn't known today was going to involve sex with her much older, very handsome fellow agent).

She unfastens her jeans, then slips off the bed and tugs them down, revealing her lemon yellow lacy panties. There's a damp spot on the crotch, and she can tell the moment Coulson spots it by the heated look he gives her. She smirks a little, then tugs her panties down as well. She climbs back onto the bed and straddles Coulson's thighs, then leans down so that her breasts are temptingly within reach of his mouth. He gets the idea immediately, and she moans when his lips wrap around a nipple and he sucks hard. She's growing slicker and more heated by the minute, and she reaches down and back to flick the button on his jeans open, before vibrating the zip down. 

"Oh fuck, Daisy."

She's just reaching down to free him from his jeans when her cell phone rings – the ringtone setting that's for a call from Joey. She sits back on her heels, kneeling over him, and he sits up and curls his right hand over her shoulder.

"It's okay," he says quietly. "Answer it. I know Joey only rings you when it's important."

She sighs a bit, then presses a quick kiss to his mouth before scrambling off the bed and grabbing her jeans from the floor, pulling her cell from the pocket.

"Yes, Joey?" She's aware of Coulson fastening his jeans again, before he reaches down to pick his shirt up from the floor.

"Okay, okay." She does her best to reassure Joey. "You're gonna have to call May or Bobbi and ask them to send the Zephyr1 for us – the highway's flooded so we can't drive. Hang on a sec." She turns around to look for her bag, and Coulson passes her tablet over, and she gives him a smile, grateful that he's anticipated her. Her fingers fly over the touchscreen, then she gives Joey the coordinates to the nearest landing spot to pass on to whomever's going to be piloting for them. "We'll be there as fast as we can, okay? And Joey, try to stay calm."

She cuts the call, then turns to look at Coulson, who's watching her with a slightly resigned expression, one eyebrow raised.

"I thought Joey was at the Retreat with the rookies," he says.

"He is. And Lincoln's turned up with a bunch of older, very hostile Inhumans – ones that Jiaying transitioned."

"Shit."

"Yeah." She sits down beside him on the bed, scarcely conscious of her continuing nakedness. "I'm sorry, Phil."

"Don't be," he says immediately. "They're your team, of course you should go and help them. Will Lincoln – ?" He breaks off, as if he's afraid to put whatever he's wondering into words.

"Honestly, I don't know what he'll do," she says. "I've no idea what's going on in that head of his any more."

He nods, then runs a hand down her arm. "You should get dressed," he suggests. "Not that I'm not enjoying the view, but – "

She smirks at him. "We've got an hour, at least, before anyone gets here." She waggles her eyebrows suggestively, and he chuckles.

"It's okay, Daisy, I'm not that desperate."

"Well I am," she says, a little plaintively.

He gives her a speculative look, then gestures at the bed. "Lie down."

She moves into the middle of the bed and sprawls across it wantonly, smirking when he licks his lips, then adjusts his burgeoning erection before shifting to kneel between her legs. 

"Okay?" he asks, and she nods fervently, then groans as he holds her thighs open and draws his tongue up the length of her moist flesh.

"Fuck, Phil." She curls her fingers around the nape of his neck, and feels the familiar pleasurable tension beginning to build. She's still worried about Joey, of course, and about what Lincoln might do, but she's not going to deny she's grateful to Coulson for the distraction.

**[3 – in a doorway]**

"Is this why you like undercover so much?" Daisy wonders as Coulson's mouth works its way down her neck from behind her ear to her very exposed collarbone.

"Mmm?" He's distracted, she thinks, although it's working as a cover, since he's playing the older, lecherous boss who's not being very discreet with his much younger, gorgeous (his word) assistant. Daisy's got her eyes half closed, still watching the couple across the room, but also enjoying the sensation of Coulson's tongue leaving a moist trail of kisses across her skin.

His hand slides from her hip to her ass, rucking up the skirt of her dress until his calloused fingers are caressing her flesh. She's not regretting wearing a thong, she decides. He has slipped his hand between her thighs by the time the couple across the room part ways, and it's with great regret that she turns her head and kisses him hard on the mouth, their pre-arranged signal that the mark is on the move. He groans into her mouth, and she wonders how much of that is desire (they still haven't managed to have sex properly yet), and how much is frustration.

"Really?" he asks, low-voiced in her ear, his breath warm against her skin. His hand's still between her legs, she realises, and she squeezes her thighs together, trapping it there for a moment, then pulls her body away from his. She glances down, then back up, and raises her eyebrows at him, because his erection's going to be obvious to anyone who looks.

"Okay, okay." He presses his hand down against it, attempting to flatten it, and she can't help smirking just a little. After all, it's exciting to know she has this effect on him.

They move out of the doorway and follow the mark, and Daisy wonders, yet again, what Lincoln thinks he's doing – he seems determined to turn all the older, Afterlife Inhumans against her. 

"Think she'll let you talk to her?" Coulson asks, and she glances his way, noting that he looks a lot more professional (despite the open collar of his shirt) than he did five minutes ago.

She shrugs. "I don't know, but I have to try. I have to keep trying."

"I know," he says reassuringly, his hand light on her lower back, and she shivers a little at the contact. (She'd been dubious about this backless dress when he'd first suggested it, but now she's got to admit, she kinda likes it.)

After this mission, she thinks, she's going to take Coulson to bed and fuck his brains out: she feels like she's burning up from all this thwarted sexual tension.

**[4 – Kissing as the streets fill with … water]**

It turns out that Lincoln's trying to rally the older Inhumans, those who'd already undergone Terrigenesis under Afterlife's aegis, against the newer Inhumans, those who've transformed as a result of the fish oil outbreak. They very nearly find themselves in the middle of an Inhuman war, which Daisy knows is going to have regrettable consequences, and not just in the form of death and injury, but also in the way the non-Inhumans regard them – there are already enough currents of distrust swirling around in the wake of the ATCU losing its two leaders at the hands of HYDRA. 

"I'm beginning to think Ms Wang's idea is the best," Daisy tells Coulson as they shelter from the sudden torrential rain in the doorway of an abandoned warehouse. They were returning from seeing Ms Wang, making their way back to where they'd left the SUV a couple of blocks away, when the skies open in a sudden storm.

"Put Lincoln in stasis, you mean?" Coulson asks. His mouth is close to her ear because the doorway's narrow, and she feels a shiver run up her spine at the sensation of his warm breath on her skin.

"Yeah. She seems to think if he wasn't rallying the other Inhumans, they'd probably go back to their own lives – there's a reason they weren't at Afterlife when my mom – you know – " She makes a vague gesture, and feels his left hand tighten carefully on her arm. "They were obviously more interested in simply getting on with their lives until he came along and stirred them up." She shrugs. "Ms Wang knows them better than I do, so I'm inclined to trust her assessment of the situation."

"Do you think Lincoln will go voluntarily?" 

"I hope so – before, he was going on about how we should take the 'cure' because we're all monsters."

"Daisy," he says, and then his mouth's on hers, and she shifts so that her body's pressed against his in the tight space, so that they can kiss more easily. She slips her hands down his back to cup his ass, pressing his crotch against her, and feels his cock growing thicker and longer, which makes the heat and moisture between her legs build. She groans into his mouth, wondering if they will _ever_ get the chance to actually fuck. Maybe after she's stopped Lincoln's mad plan, she thinks.

"Phil," she gasps. "God, Phil. I want you so bad."

"Yes." He groans, his left hand tightening on her hip, and his right presses between her thighs. She's wearing jeans, otherwise she suspects he'd have his fingers inside her already. She wants his fingers inside her, even if she can't have his cock.

She brings her right hand from behind his back and eases it between their bodies so she can get at her zip. Then she grabs his wrist and he gets the message, thank god, and eases his hand into her jeans. She moans as he slides his finger over her clit, then between her lips.

"Yeah, Phil." He gets a second finger in her, and okay, it's not the same as him fucking her with the hard cock that's pressed against her thigh, but it's still good. 

She's got her face buried in the crook of his neck as he works his fingers faster and harder, and she can't help sinking her teeth into his flesh as he drives her over the edge – it's the only way to stop herself from screaming with pleasure. As it is, the door behind them rattles on its hinges.

"Fuck, Daisy," he groans, then eases his hand out of her pants. She grabs his wrist and curls her tongue around his fingers, sucking them clean, and as soon as she releases his hand, he kisses her hard and fast. 

He leans sideways and she guesses he's looking to see if the rain's easing up at all, and then his body jerks in her arms, and not in a good way. She looks over his shoulder and sees Lincoln there, just feet away in the rain-washed street; he's lowering his hand, and she realises that he's just shot Coulson with one of SHIELD's ICERs and she flicks her own hand up, the one that's not clutching Coulson's unconscious body tightly against her, and flings air, together with water scooped from the surface of the street, at the young man. Lincoln's thrown through the air to crash against a pile of trash half way down the block. 

She shifts Coulson in her arms so she can tug her cell from her pocket, and calls Mack. "Director, I need a pick-up."

"Daisy?" Mack sounds calm, as he always does, but also confused. "What's wrong?"

"Lincoln's shot Coulson," she says, and hears his breath catch. "It was an ICER, but he's out for the count."

"And Mr Campbell?" Mack asks.

"I threw him down the street," she admits. "I haven't actually checked if he's dead, not yet."

"Okay. I'll send Bobbi to come and pick you up."

"May too, please, if she's there?"

"She is. They'll be with you in forty minutes. Sit tight."

"Better bring the Zephyr1," she says, "since we've also got an SUV here."

"Already on it, Agent."

"Thanks Director." She cuts the call, then shoves her cell back into her pocket before easing Coulson down to sit in the doorway. She brushes her fingertips over the side of his neck, then presses her lips to his forehead, before leaving him to see what condition Lincoln's in. She hopes he's not dead – she didn't mean to kill him, after all – but she'll admit that the main reason is that she wants to yell at him.

She approaches him warily until she's close enough to see that he's unconscious. He's not dead, she can tell that from his vibrations, even before she reaches down to check his pulse. She'd picked up the ICER, which he'd dropped when she flung him away, and now she dials the dose up to half again what he gave Coulson, then shoots him, just to be sure he'll stay unconscious until she can get him aboard the Zephyr1.

**[5 - In a broken world they are/practicing this simple and singular act/to perfection. They are holding/onto each other. They are kissing.]**

"Phil." Daisy sighs his name as his mouth begins to leave a warm, moist trail down her throat, between her breasts, then over her belly to pause just on her gunshot scars. He scrapes his teeth carefully over that particular spot, and she grunts as she tries not to buck up underneath him. He eases her thighs apart, and she groans as he scratches his scruff over her sensitive inner thigh.

"Daisy," he says, and presses his mouth lightly to her labia, then he slips his tongue inside, and she can't help curling her fingers around the back of his neck as he works her fast and hard to a bed-shaking orgasm. 

She's glad she persuaded Mack to let them take a couple of days off once the business with Lincoln was over, and that he agreed to let them use the Retreat. The isolation, and the quiet are just what they need right now.

Coulson eases her through the aftershocks, then kisses a path back up her body to her mouth, and she tugs him into a lengthy, open-mouthed kiss, enjoying the taste of herself on his tongue.

Once he's completely breathless, she flips them over so that he's pinned to the bed beneath her. He gazes up at her, surprise and lust battling for dominance of his expression, and she smirks, then leans down to kiss him again even as she guides his cock into her moist heat.

"Fuck, Daisy." 

"Yeah," she says, because his cock filling her is an amazingly good sensation, and she is so relieved that they're finally able to do this. She lies on top of him, his arms wrapped loosely around her torso, and kisses him some more, because she loves kissing Coulson – he's easily the best kisser she's ever been involved with, which she knows is down to his age and experience. It doesn't bother her that he's kissed a lot of people before her because it just means he's so good at it. 

She starts to move once they pull apart to catch their breath, but she can't resist leaning down to press little fleeting kisses to his face – those were where they started after all.

"After I kissed you that first time, I worried I was taking advantage of you, of your vulnerable state," she tells him, nuzzling her face into the side of his neck.

"You didn't," he tells her softly. "You wouldn't do that. But if I'd felt that you were, I'd have told you."

She lifts her head to look him in the eye, stilling her slow movements over him. He means it, she can tell, so she nods, then starts to move faster, riding him harder, and he grabs her hips, holding her in place as he works his own hips beneath her, thrusting harder and faster until she comes, then comes a second time, before he climaxes too.

Afterwards they snuggle up together, Daisy's head on his shoulder, and one of her legs tangled with both of Coulson's. He waits until they've caught their breath, before his mouth seeks out hers again, and she chuckles into it a little.

"What?" he asks.

"I love the way that you can't stop kissing me," she tells him. "You're the best."

He smirks. "You're pretty great yourself."

She snorts. "Yeah, no Phil, I'm the best."

He laughs until she cuts him off with her mouth on his, and this, she thinks, is perfection.


End file.
